


Liberi Vivite

by wonker8



Series: Pax Aeterna [1]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: AU, Dollhouse AU, Fusion, Gen, Joss Whedon's Dollhouse, M/M, No previous knowledge of Dollhouse required, Notice that Khan is in this story, Starfleet is like FBI, but it does have spoilers, but this is NOT a RPF, in which I use actor names, modern day AU, really really light on the romance, so if you want to watch it, spoiler for Dollhouse season 1, with Star Trek characters in Dollhouse universe, you might not want to read this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-09
Updated: 2013-07-09
Packaged: 2017-12-18 02:41:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/874733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wonker8/pseuds/wonker8
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Dollhouse is a fairytale organization that sells humans to the highest bidder for whatever fantasy they desire. These humans are called 'Dolls.' Their previous memories and personalities are wiped and replaced to fulfill the fantasy to the best of their ability.</p><p>The Dollhouse does not exist. Everyone knows that. Then why is the newly promoted Jim Kirk of Starfleet getting anonymous tips to save one "S'chn T'gai Spock" from the Dollhouse?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Liberi Vivite

**Author's Note:**

> I know I promised glasses kink, but then I saw an episode of Whedon's _Dollhouse_ and couldn't stop myself. The glasses kink is coming, I promise.
> 
> This story contains:  
> SPOILERS for _DOLLHOUSE_ Season 1  
>  Violence  
> Bad language  
> Khan
> 
> On that note, if you have no intention of ever watching _Dollhouse_ , you can still enjoy this story. It doesn't require any prior knowledge to enjoy it.
> 
> That said, please enjoy!

_"In their resting state, our [dolls] are as innocent and vulnerable as children. We call it the "Tabula Rasa". The blank slate. Now imagine the imprint process filling it, creating a new personality. A friend, a lover, a confidant in a sea of enemies. Your heart's desire made flesh. And when the engagement has been completed, all memory of you and your time together will be wiped clean."_ DeWitt from _Dollhouse_

* * *

“Imagine, Bones! The person next to you is _the perfect person_. Every quality you've searched for in a potential mate, every characteristics, all rolled together into a neat little ball tied up with a pretty ribbon. In another words, the ideal person with the perfect personality, who is nothing but dedicated to you and only you,” Jim explained as he cut the strawberry shortcake in front of him with his fork. He looked at his friend with an excited grin before taking a forkful into his mouth.

“And let me guess, this ideal person can be yours for however ridiculously large sum of money you pay for however long?” Leonard asked, looking amusedly at his friend as he took a sip of his mocha.

“Exactly!” Jim pointed his fork at his friend. “The perfect little doll for any rich person.”

Leonard rolled his eyes at Jim's excitement. “And out of all the perfect, ideal person you can have, you're stuck on this one?” He tapped at the picture on the table, giving his best friend an 'Are-you-frigging-kidding-me?' look.

“What's wrong with Spock?” Jim asked innocently as he took another bite of his cake. He gave his friend a quizzical look, because really, what was Leonard's problem with the handsome man in the picture?

“Well, for one thing, his name is 'Spock.'”

Jim snorted. “Aw, Bones! There's nothing wrong with the name Spock. Sure it's not the most common name, but that makes it memorable, you know? Or... At least... it was his name. Back when he was still Spock, you know? Before his personality got wiped to be someone's doll.” Although he began speaking in a light-hearted tone, as he continued to speak, his eyes grew sadder and tone darker.

Leonard crossed his arms, giving Jim a look that was too close to pity for the blonde's liking. “Maybe he asked for it.”

“No one asks to be a slave.”

There was a soft sigh on the doctor's end before he decided to humor his friend. “Alright, so no one asks to be a slave. How do they end up as a doll?”

“No clue. Maybe mob problems?”

“A guy named ' _Spock_ ' had mob problems?” Leonard asked, giving Jim another look.

“Just why are you so hung up on his name anyways?” Jim muttered around his mouthful of cake.

“And where did you get this picture anyways? And how do you even know his name? Wait... Jim, please don't tell me you didn't buy the guy?”

“Oh come on! Really? That's what you think of?!” Jim exclaimed, glaring at his friend. “I got it in the mail. 'S'ch... S'chn...' Well, it said something about 'Spock,' so I assumed that was his name. It was written in neat handwriting, with the words, 'Please save me from the Dollhouse.' No return address, but someone clearly wants to be rescued.”

“And you don't find that strange?”

Jim shrugged. “People leave anonymous tips all the time at Starfleet. I just happened to pick this one up.”

“Have you searched for the guy?” Leonard asked, wondering just how someone with as high of an IQ as Jim always seemed to chose the path with the least common sense.

“Yeah. And get this. I got nothing. So I ran his image through the image scanner and guess what?”

“You found nothing?”

“No. I found several names attached to it. Names that aren't just Spock. Several other files too. But before I can print or look at one of them any closely, they all disappeared. That's how I know that this isn't just a fairy tale, Bones. I have to find the Dollhouse.”

“And what exactly is the plan?” Leonard pushed on. “You're going to go into this... 'Dollhouse' and destroy the organization creating these... 'dolls?' You're going to go in, rescue this Spock guy, and ride off into the sunset together? Because if you ask me, that's even more pathetic a dream than those who buy these 'dolls' for sex.” Having said his piece, Leonard gave Jim a pointed look before taking another sip of his mocha. “Besides, how are you even going to get access to the place, anyways? You have a desk job.”

It appeared that that question was exactly what Jim had been waiting for. A smirk formed on the blonde's mouth as a soft, dark chuckle reverberated from him. Without hesitation, he reached into his pockets and pulled out a badge given to a field agent of Starfleet.

“Because you're looking at the newly instated field agent,” Jim answered proudly.

The reaction from his friend was not the one he had been hoping for. Instead of the warm congratulations that he was expecting, Leonard cursed and rubbed his temples. It was hurtful to say the least and Jim made that very clear.

“Oh shut it, you stupid egomaniac,” Leonard groaned. “Your head's too big for you to walk straight anymore! What were the top brass thinking, promoting you, of all people?!”

“Hey! I take great offense at that! I am a great choice for a field assignment! I know what I'm doing!”

“And instead of protecting the people like a good Starfleet officer should do, you're going to be wasting our tax payer dollars on chasing this... fairytale!” Leonard threw his arms up dramatically. Then more seriously, he turned to his friend. “Jim, you've been promoted. Don't waste that promotion on chasing after this Dollhouse. It doesn't exist.”

“Then tell me where Spock went,” Jim demanded, glaring at Leonard. “Where the hell did he and his files disappear to?”

“Look, this is just really sketchy! How can you be so wrapped in the idea of sex slaves that you can't focus on the fact that your source isn't exactly reliable?”

“It's not about sex, Bones! It's about freedom. It's about people being turned into slaves without a choice of their own. Why can't you just be supportive of me for once?” With a heavy sigh, he pushed the cake away from himself. “The Dollhouse exists. It has to.”

Leonard, however, shook his head firmly. “We are no where close to that kind of technology, Jim. Even if something like a Dollhouse were to exist, the mere presence of that kind of technology and the needed energy to make it work would put red flags all over it. Seeing that that hasn't happened, there is no Dollhouse.”

“Just you wait!” Jim growled before standing up. “You'll see, Bones! You and everyone will see!”

*

Pike raised a brow, staring at Jim with half-amusement and half-alarmed. “You know,” he said, “if I had known how dedicated you would be, I would have promoted you ages ago.” He walked towards Jim's desk and stared at the collection of information and pictures with a frown. “Jim, these aren't related to the Mudd case.”

“That's because I'm done with that one,” Jim stated calmly, pointing at a small folder by the corner of his desk.

His supervisor blanched and looked at him as if he was insane. “Done? Jim, you got that case two hours ago!”

Jim paused to glance up at Pike. “And I'm done with it,” he pointed out. “You said that as long as I'm done with all my cases, I can focus on whatever case I wanted to.” With that, he returned to his information, scanning through the data for something.

“You didn't even go out to check out the evidences!” Pike pointed out, staring in disbelief. “You didn't interview anyone! Hell, did you even leave the desk after receiving it? How can you close a case without even doing anything?”

“Apparently very easily,” Jim answered. He sighed softly before looking at Pike again. “Look, I'm done with the case. Are you going to leave me to research the Dollhouse or not?”

Pike's lips thinned into a firm line, but he did not say anything. Instead, he just looked at his protégé with worry interwoven with fear before taking the folder and walking away.

*

The next piece of mail that Jim found, it was actually addressed to him. He glanced at the handwriting and recognized it from the photograph with the name, “S'chn T'gai Spock” scribbled on the back. His lips thinned into a line before he carefully opened it.

A USB landed on his desk with a soft thud, but it felt much more dramatic.

What was in the USB? What was his anonymous source trying to tell him? Jim didn't hesitate before he plugged the USB drive into his computer. And suddenly, it was as if another world was opened in front of him. What he had in the files were the incomes and the spendings of those in high places. It was literally nothing. Normal files that anyone could get their hands on if they worked for a bank or a government agency like Starfleet. But there was something important here.

Jim printed all the files before they disappeared on him. Then he made sure to make copies of those copies as well as saving the files on the computer multiple times in different locations. Like hell he was going to lose any more files.

With that, he put the stacks up nicely into a binder he was starting. Then he returned his focus on something more important: Locating the Dollhouse.

*

“Your obsession is slightly freaking me out,” Sulu stated as he stared at his colleague who had maps spread out all over their lunch table. 

Chekov was sitting stiffly next to Jim, trying hard to make him take a couple of bites in-between scanning the maps. “You must eat,” the Russian insisted, holding up a forked piece of pork to Jim. No, Sulu wasn't jealous... Okay, maybe a little. He'd only dreamt of having Chekov feed him like that. Damn Jim. He knew how much Sulu liked little Chekov...

The blonde absentmindedly took it and bit into it, his eyes never looking away from the maps. Sulu debated for a second before putting his tray down on top of the map. When Jim let out a protest with a full mouth, Sulu just shut him down with a glare. It was enough to stop him for a few seconds to chew, and Chekov threw Sulu a thankful glance (He pretended that his face wasn't heating up). 

“Sulu, I'm near a breakthrough. I can feel it. So move your tray so I can focus.”

“You're an idiot if you think I'm going to move, Kirk,” Sulu answered calmly.

“Well why not? It's not like I'm harming anyone by doing this,” Jim pointed out, using that genius brain of his to justify what he was doing again. “Who has the best crime solve rate in the entire Starfleet?”

“You do, yes, we know,” Sulu said, fighting the urge to roll his eyes. “But it's not the statistics that we're worried about. It's...” Sulu motioned at the maps. “Your obsession over this Dollhouse and all that it represents. You're letting it consume your life.”

“I'm not letting Spock become another statistic that disappeared into the clutches of Dollhouse.”

“You can't even prove that Dollhouse exists!” 

Jim and Sulu glared at one another, communicating with their eyes what they didn't say out loud. Jim, who believed without a doubt that he was in the right. Sulu, who was worried about his friend who was throwing his entire career away for a fairytale that didn't exist. Staring uneasily at the two was Chekov, who was torn between agreeing with Sulu (as he usually did) and encouraging Jim (because that was what friends did. They encouraged one another).

“Vhy don't ve just eat quietly?” Chekov looked at the two of them with pleading eyes. Neither Sulu nor Jim could refuse the young boy, especially not when he looked so panicked that his two friends might be having a fight.

They both agreed. But Jim returned to scanning the maps and Sulu found himself throwing random pieces of trash on top of the map to block the blonde's line of sight. The two exchanged various more glares, much to Chekov's concern.

*

The doctor took a deep breath in and held it. After five seconds, he released it slowly and then he tried to talk to his best friend without exploding. Jim, who seemed oblivious to the temper that was brewing in his friend, stood proudly like a cat who had killed the house canary and brought it to its master. Behind him, he had pinned up the city map right next to the sewage map as well as the electric grid of the city. There were stacks of frightening stacks of papers that no doubt had to do with Dollhouse all over Leonard's apartment. 

“What the hell are you doing in my home?” Leonard finally managed to ask without sounding too angry. “How the hell did you get in?”

“That's not important right now,” Jim answered, waving his hand. “Because you'll never believe it, Bones.”

Of course it wasn't important. Leonard sighed and rubbed his temples. “What now?”

“I found it. I found the Dollhouse.”

There was the briefest of pause for that sentence to register. “Found...?”

Jim nodded. “That's right. There's no doubt about it. It exists, Bones. I found it.”

“But how...?”

“It's the map, Bones! It's just like you said. The technology shouldn't exist, which means they probably use a lot of electricity. So I looked at the electric grid of the city. Do you see it?” Jim asked, pointing at the map.

“What exactly am I looking for?”

“Exactly! You can't see it at all!”

Leonard blinked slowly. “What exactly are you trying to get at? Because this is starting to get ridiculous.” 

“Whua-? No, Bones! This isn't ridiculous. I know exactly what I'm talking about. Because look, if they exist, then they have to be on-grid, just like you pointed out to me.”

“But they're not on-grid,” Leonard stated, wondering if he should pull out a tranquilizer and put his friend to what he assumed was much needed sleep.

“But Bones, that's just it! They are! I mean... Well, okay, they aren't, but that's why I know where they are.”

“You lost me.”

Jim took a deep breath, calming himself down long enough to make sense. “They're underground.”

“Well duh. They have to be, if they're selling sex-”

“No! Bones! Gods, why are you such a stupid prick? I mean literally. They're underground.”

Leonard's face went blank. “What?”

Jim pointed at the maps. “Look. See how the electricity grids are set up so that power can get to every buildings? That's not the case with the sewage system. Don't you see it? The sewage map and the electric grid map doesn't coincide. This huge spot right there where a sewage system should be, logically speaking, is completely empty. According to the other maps, there's just a normal office building. But the other normal office buildings all have sewage systems built under it to take care of the waste. This building doesn't. Do you get why? Because the Dollhouse is built underground right there. There's no way you can build a sewage system through it, so they just rerouted the whole system around it. That's why there's a gaping hole!”

As Jim explained and pointed things out, the doctor's expression changed from one of confusion to disbelief. “My god, man!” he exclaimed. Jim looked at him like an excited kid in a toy store, clearly expecting to be praised. But the doctor's words were anything but.

“How long have you gone without any sleep? You sound like a deranged man who haven't slept for days! You're pointing at a hole on the map, Jim! And then you're calling it evidence. Don't you see how ridiculous this is?”

“Bones!” Jim whined, walking away from his work to get close to his friend. “Don't you get it? It's a breakthrough! I just need to search that building and-”

“Why are you so obsessed with this?” Leonard asked, cutting him off. “Jim, I don't understand. You've finally been promoted to a field agent status. But instead of going out to do anything, you just sit around, looking for this Dollhouse. It doesn't exist, Jim! It's just a fairy tale! Something that mothers tell children so they don't go out at night alone!”

“If it's a fairy tale, tell me what happened to Spock!”

“Jim, this is San Francisco. People disappear and appear all the time. You can't seriously be telling me that-”

“Tell me what happened to the files.”

“Maybe you saw it wrong.”

“I didn't see it wrong!” Jim exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air. “And I know I'm going to find him. And if you can't stop being a jackass and be my friend for once, you'll see that I'm right. The Dollhouse exists! Spock exists! I'm going to save him.”

Leonard groaned with frustration. “Do you not hear yourself, man? You're so desperate to find this Dollhouse that you're pointing at holes on the maps. The tip you got with Spock's photo and name? That was from an anonymous source. Since when does Starfleet take anonymous sources this seriously? Jim, I'm begging you, please stop this before you get hurt.”

But then again, when did Jim ever do what was asked of him?

*

By the time that Jim had the chance to look at second piece of mail that he had received, he had already solved 7 cases for Starfleet. There were rumors about him all over Starfleet, he knew. Some about how as long as he was allowed to look into the Dollhouse, he would continue to be a good boy and continue to do his work. Others about how he was crazy but no one wanted to admit it because his level of crazy was the only thing that can catch the bad guys.

Jim had long given up keeping track of the rumors. He had much more important things to work on. Like figuring out why this information had been sent to him. Or who was sending it, for that matter. He ignored the worried glances his friends and co-workers shot him.

Then he realized what the lists of numbers and names were and he wanted to smack himself for being such an idiot. 

He had been given the list of clients. Whoever this anonymous source was, Jim was quite thankful.

*

“Chekov, I need your help,” Jim said, pulling up to the young desk worker. 

“Of course, Kirk!” Chekov answered with a bright smile, clearly happy that Jim was talking to him again. Not that Jim was avoiding him or anything. It was just with the recent breakthroughs, he had been too absorbed to talk to anyone else. “Vhat do you need?”

“These names. I want everyone's files. For whatever reasons, my account's been frozen.” Jim handed over the names part of the information that he received. Like hell he was going to hand over everything. As much as he trusted Chekov to be discreet, he knew without a doubt that Chekov couldn't keep his mouth shut if Sulu asked.

The unsuspecting Russian took the files and froze. “Zhese aren't for zhe Lazarus case,” he whispered. Then he looked at Jim with wide eyes. “Kirk, don't zell me you're still looking into zhe Dollhouse?”

“Of course I am! Who do you take me for?” Jim asked. “Look, can you find the files or not?”

Chekov shook his head, his face pale and apologetic. “I'm so sorry, but Pike made me promise not to help you.”

Jim's lips thinned into a line. Pike? Why was he getting in the way? He forced himself to shoot Chekov a smile. “Hey, it's fine, little man. We'll talk later, alright?” Then he was gone, fists clenched tightly as he burst into Pike's office.

“What the hell, Pike?” he demanded as he walked into the office. 

His supervisor just let out a soft sigh before he turned to face him. “Are you here to turn in the report for the Lazarus case?”

“No. But that's not the point. First you put my account on hold, and now you're forbidding my colleagues to help me? I thought I could work on any case I want to! … Sir.” Pike looked a little amused by the forced respect Jim attached at the end of his mini-rant. But then his face hardened, and Jim knew that this wasn't going to be simple.

“Jim, you're only allowed to work on whatever case you want to as long as it doesn't get in the way of an actual case. That was the promise. If the Lazarus case isn't finished, then you don't get to work on the Dollhouse.”

“Sir, with all due respect, I am close to something. I can feel it. Please don't stop me now,” Jim said, ignoring how desperate he sounded. He was all but pleading with Pike to let him continue on this chase. He knew that he hadn't provided with any physical evidence yet. But it was really only matter of time. He was going to find the Dollhouse. He just had to.

“The promise was that you can work on whatever you want as long as you finish your case. Are you going back on your word, Jim?” Pike's eyes were sharp, rounding in on Jim with an emotion that the blonde wasn't sure he could quite place.

Jim's jaws tightened before he forced himself to relax. “No sir,” he said. 

“Then get back to your actual case.” The unspoken _or else_ hung heavy in the air between them. But Jim didn't point it out. He just nodded slowly and left, leaving Pike sighing heavily.

*

That night, Jim and Leonard met at the local Chinese food store like they did every month. Like every month, they joked and talked about everything and anything. Like every month, they checked out the waitresses, and made crude comments to each other when no one else was looking or within hearing distance (Okay, Jim made crude comments and Leonard rolled his eyes at him). They also complained about their work. Leonard would talk about the annoying patients who didn't listen (he always eyed Jim critically when he said those) and Jim would share what he could about the non-classified cases like the Dollhouse (except Leonard always got a funny look on his face when Jim did, so he learned quickly not to speak too much of it).

But unlike every month, Leonard went quiet at the end of their meal as he fiddled with the fortune cookie. Usually, this was the most fun part. They would break open their cookies and read their fortunes aloud, adding, “in bed,” at the end of their fortunes or other filthy things to make their fortunes sound worse than it was. It was part of their ritual. Something they did every month. Jim laughing and sharing jocular jokes while Leonard groaning and complaining.

And Leonard wasn't doing it.

“Something bothering you?” Jim asked. It was his turn to be worried about his friend now.

“It's just... I have a conference,” the doctor said finally, quietly. Reluctantly. “The hospital is sending me. I can't refuse.”

There was a small pause. “How long?”

“Two weeks. Then I'll be back.”

Jim shrugged. “That's not too bad. And here I thought you were going to tell me you want to stop being friends with me or something.”

Leonard shook his head. “It's just... I don't want to leave you right now.” _Now when you're so obsessed with a fairy tale,_ he did not say. But Jim heard it nonetheless. It was the problem with being friends. The other person always figured out what you were thinking.

The blonde's eyes hardened and his lips curled into a frown. “I'm going to be fine, Bones,” he declared firmly. “You don't have to worry.”

But Leonard was always worrying.

*

Jim watched Leonard board the plane, waving and grinning like the good friend he was. Then the worrying doctor was finally off, leaving Jim alone in San Francisco. He let out a soft sigh, rubbing the back of his neck. Time to go back to the Lazarus case. He had put it on hold because of anger, but he wasn't going to let his reputation as the best agent in Starfleet become marred because of that kind of a petty reason.

He stopped by the food court to grab something to eat when he saw him. Twin orbs of brown looked straight at him, almost like issuing a challenge. His hair was cut in an old-fashioned style, the exactly same as the one in the picture. There was no doubt who that was.

“Spock!” the name tore from his mouth. And Jim found himself running towards the other man.

But as soon as he spotted Jim coming after him, Spock turned on his heels and ran the other way. Why? Why was this man here? Was he on a job? And why was he running away from Jim? Didn't he ask to be saved from the Dollhouse? Jim didn't like the questions and the potential answers his mind supplied. But he had to know. This was what he had been waiting for. He found Spock. He found him.

The Dollhouse existed.

Spock turned a corner and Jim followed without hesitation. They ran through the airport, and he should have been surprised at the lack of security that tried to stop them, but his mind was distracted. Spock was right there. The man he had only seen in pictures. The elusive man that he had been hounding, trying to save... _Spock was there._

Then suddenly, Spock stopped and turned to face Jim. They were in an empty part of the airport now. Odd. Why was this part empty? But there wasn't any time to register that. Because suddenly, Spock was lashing out, punching and kicking with sharp precision of a man who had been trained since young. Jim dodged the initial volley, but damn, Spock was fast.

"Wait!" Jim shouted, as he twisted and turned, trying to get away from the fight. "I'm here to help you. I'm not going to harm you. I know you're with the Dollhouse. I want to get you out!"

Instead of a, "Oh? Really? Then this is all a misunderstanding. Please help me," kind of discussion that Jim had been hoping for, Spock increased his attack, spinning and hitting with percision and grace of a dancer. Before Jim knew it, he found himself on the ground, gasping for air.

This wasn't part of his calculations. Never in his wildest dreams did he think of this. It wasn't supposed to be like this at all!

Spock casually walked over and placed his foot on Jim's chest, pinning him there to the ground with his foot and eyes. “The Dollhouse is real,” he told Jim softly. His voice was completely opposite from the feral attack that had taken place just moments ago. “They have realized your efforts and wishes to destroy you. You are getting too close to them and it makes them nervous. That is why I am here.”

Reasonable. If Dollhouse really was as powerful as Jim suspected, then this made perfect sense. However, there was something else that bothered him. “If that's true, then why are you telling me this instead of killing me?”

“We have a person inside,” Spock explained. His voice was cold and calm. Calculating, almost. Jim wondered what Spock was like before he had become this shell, before he was a doll. “The person corrupted this doll while the programmer was not looking and added this parameter.”

Jim closed his eyes. It was one thing to think of Dollhouses and the people inside of it, treated like dolls. But to actually hear it so emotionlessly from a human's mouth... 

Spock stepped off of Jim's chest and held out his hand. There was a brief pause before the blonde took it, using it to stand up. How odd it was to be helped up by the same person who, in all intent and purposes, was supposed to kill him. Or perhaps it was better to say that Spock was here to scare him from researching any more on the Dollhouse. Otherwise, he probably would have come with a weapon.

“Is this the same person that sent me the picture and the USB?”

Spock nodded. He paused for a second and then... “You must desist in your actions.”

“You can't be serious! Don't tell me that! After all I'm trying to do, this is what you're telling me? I want to save you! Don't tell me you want to keep being a slave?”

Spock tilted his head, looking at Jim with blank eyes. “I have not been programmed to answer that question.”

“Not programmed-?!” Jim stopped the disbelief to take a deep breath. “Okay. Fine. You want me to stop looking for the Dollhouse?”

“There are over twenty Dollhouses in cities around the world. They have ties to every major political power on the planet. You cannot possibly stop them alone.”

Realization flashed in Jim's eyes. He understood now. “You want me to work with you? We're going to take down the Dollhouse together?”

“The person who sent this message is.”

"Why did that person not come himself? Why are you the one in front of me? Why did that person send me your files?"

"I have not been programmed to answer that question," Spock answered calmly.

Jim groaned softly. “Alright. Fine. I'll stop acting out on my own. But what exactly are you trying to accomplish? Why me? Why now?”

“I have not been programmed to answer that question,” Spock repeated, again with that blank look.

It was creepy as hell and Jim couldn't help but to look away. “Alright, so what am I supposed to do now?”

“Trust me,” Spock said. And suddenly, there was something bright in his eyes, something burning. It was different from the blank doll-state that he was in just moments before. Was this the programming of the person who sent it over? And what was it that shone in Spock's eyes? Anger? No, nothing so raw. Determination? No, nothing so simple... Then what was it? “We will contact you on a later date, if possible with the same doll. But until then, you must allow the Dollhouse to believe you have given up. You are more than capable to research and be discreet, or am I false in my assumption?”

 _But I don't want to,_ he wanted to whine. He didn't. He sucked in another breath, mentally putting on his big boy's pants, and nodded. “Alright. I can do that.”

Spock rewarded him with a smile. _Not Spock. The programming. Or the person behind the programming._ But even with that harsh thought, Jim couldn't help but to feel a swell of want. Then the doll was gone, leaving Jim alone in the empty part of the airport, leaving no trace of his existence behind.

See? He was right. The Dollhouse totally existed.

*

Everyone noticed the difference in Jim's demeanor right away. How could they not? All of a sudden, Jim was eating with them. Talking to them. Hanging out. He was focused on actual cases and not a single mention of the Dollhouse ever left his mouth. It was as if the agent who was James Kirk before Dollhouse was back, and everyone didn't hesitate to show their relief.

Chekov actually let out a sob, clutching to Sulu as he said, “He's back, he's back...” over and over again, looking at Jim with such honest eyes that the blonde couldn't help but to feel guilty. Sulu had just offered him a grin before challenging Jim to a sparring match, where he then proceeded to pound Jim into the mattress. Pike patted him on the shoulder (eyes twinkling when Jim flinched because his muscles were still cramping from the match) and congratulated him on every case solved, looking at him with such pride that Jim couldn't help but to smile back. He even got rid of the freeze on Jim's account, giving the blonde freedom again to research without someone else watching over his moves.

He told Leonard over the phone. Told the doctor to stop worrying that he was going to drop the chase. There had been pride in Leonard's voice at Jim's decision. Pride and relief and so much damned happiness. Then Leonard was back to being the motherhen he was about being careful about his allergies and just being careful during missions, moving on to other things to worry about now that Jim's obsession was supposedly gone.

But in the back of Jim's mind, he never stopped looking. He never stopped going over the details of the Dollhouse case. He just got better at hiding it, just as Spock (well, the person who reprogrammed Spock, really) had asked him to do.

*

One week before Leonard was supposed to return, Jim realized something strange. He had been replaying his discussion with Spock in his mind when it struck him as odd.

Sure, he had never been very careful at hiding his obsession over the Dollhouse before, but how did they know that he had gotten close?

The only person that he told was Leonard and...

He paused. Could it be?

Jim tore his apartment apart, going through every nook and cranny. And damn. He hated being right sometimes. Because there was the proof. The reason how the Dollhouse knew. Security cameras. They had put cameras all over Jim's apartment. Then didn't it stand to reason that most likely, the Dollhouse had also placed them in Leonard's apartment? 

This was unforgivable.

*

“Scotty!” Jim called. Scotty was Starfleet's most trusted techie. Well, more like Jim's most trusted tech. But the two titles were interchangeable, really. 

The Scottsman looked up and grinned at the sight of Jim. “Kirk! Haven't seen you around here in a while!”

“Hey Scotty, can you keep a secret?”

“Well... I could,” Scotty agreed, looking at Jim with uncertainty. “But that depends on the bribe you have for me.”

“I'll buy you sandwiches from your favorite Deli down the street every lunch.”

Scotty brightened at that. “Deal! Alright, what's the problem?” Scotty was easy like that.

Jim pulled out the camera and handed it over to Scotty, who accepted it with a frown. “Someone put this all around my place. What is it?” Jim knew exactly what it was. But he wanted Scotty to answer it. Didn't want to put suggestions in Scotty's mind and all.

And his techie didn't disappoint. “It's a camera,” he said, a small crease appearing on his forehead. “They rigged your place with it, you say?”

Jim nodded, but Scotty wasn't looking. He was busy looking at the camera, tinkering with it, already enthralled by the new piece of equipment. Jim knew Scotty had been the right choice. Although Scotty could be silly and too easy going at times, Jim knew Scotty. Jim knew the fierce loyalty Scotty would show to those he considered his friends. Luckily for Jim, he was rather high on that list.

“This is impossible,” Scotty whispered finally. Then he put it down momentarily to look at Jim. “This camera... It can't exist. This technology doesn't exist in this world! Kirk, why was your place rigged with this device?”

Jim shrugged. “No clue. Maybe someone needed to watch me?”

There was the smallest pause before Scotty's eyes lit up and a soft, “Oh,” left his mouth. Then he glanced down at the camera, looking at it with surprise and fascination. “This has to do with the Dollhouse doesn't it?”

The blonde hesitated before nodding slowly. “That's my guess.”

And just as Jim had hoped, Scotty's whole face lit up like a kid at Christmas. “I've always dreamed of such technology! Jim, do you know what this means?”

“What does it mean, Scotty?” he asked, unable to hold back the grin on his own face.

“It means you have yourself a believer!”

*

Leonard came back three days earlier than advertised. He just showed up on Jim's doorsteps, ignoring the fact that he still had all of his things from his trip. He had a bottle of champaign in one hand and takeouts in the other. Then with a grin that was uncharacteristic of him (but oh so suiting on those lips), he invited himself in.

They talked about what had happened with one another while they were apart. Jim made sure not to mention anything about the camera or Spock. Instead, they just talked and joked, enjoying each others' company after the long absence. And when Jim was sure that Leonard was in a good mood, he finally dropped the bomb.

“So they put cameras all over my place.”

There was a pause as the doctor blinked to register what was said. Then... “The hell?! What did you do, Jim?!”

“Why do you always just assume I did something?” Jim whined. Then more seriously, he said, “You're not going to like it.”

“Just spit it out, man!”

Jim gulped slowly. “I think it's the Dollhouse.”

Leonard groaned and buried his face in his hands. “The Dollhouse? Again? Jim-”

“I told you you won't like it!” Jim grumbled. “Well, it's not like it matters anyways. I got rid of them.”

The doctor sighed heavily, rubbing his temples. “I can't believe you! I thought for sure you were over-” And then he stopped.

Jim blinked. “Uh... Bones?” he asked, looking at his friend's blank face with growing worry and fear. “Are you okay?”

Leonard turned his head to the side, looking at Jim with a blank look. The alarm bells in Jim's mind was going off at dreadfully alarming pace, and he was sure he wasn't going to like this. He had seen that blank look before and that was when-

“I have a message for you from inside the Dollhouse.”

_Fuck._

“That's not funny. Bones, stop messing around. Look, I'm sorry. I'll never bring up the Dollhouse again. Just... stop this, Bones.”

“My name is not Bones. And this is not a joke,” said the person wearing the skin of Jim's best friend. Voice cold and calm, like Spock's had been.

“No. No, no, no, no, no. You're just being a jackass like always. This is a fucking joke. This is... This can't... Shit, damn it! Bones is my best friend, fuck you!”

“I'm sorry we had to deliver the news to you like this in this body. But you had to know. You give too much away to those you think you can trust. The Dollhouse must not find out about these meetings or just how much you actually know.” Again, there was a flash of that something that wasn't just a blank doll. Was this the glimpse of the programmer who had hacked Leonard's programming?

“How long? How long was Bones... How long was my _best fucking friend a fucking doll_?”

“Long before you met me. This body had been used to spy on Starfleet. You had been useful because you gave everything away to me without hesitation. Because you trusted me. But once your interest in the Dollhouse was sparked, my purpose was changed to spy on you,” replied the doll. His voice had returned to being cold and his face was blank as always. Not a single trace of the empathy from earlier could be seen.

“No! Stop it! Stop telling me this. You can't be! Leonard is my friend. Damn you! Fuck you!”

“You must not give anything away to anyone. You must not trust anyone else. I cannot always speak to you through these bodies.” And now someone else was speaking again using Leonard's body. This person had a sharp look. He glared at Jim, pinning him to where he sat. But Jim refused to stay still. He refused to be cowed by a simple look of a person who wasn't even here.

“Who are you?” Jim whispered, looking at the person that was not his friend. "Why won't you show yourself? Why do you keep using these dolls?"

“I have not been programmed to answer that question,” Leonard answered, now back to the doll. Back to the shell wearing Leonard McCoy's skin. “You must not let the Dollhouse know. Trust no body.”

“Wait!”

But the programming had ran its course. And it was Leonard McCoy on the couch again, rubbing his temples and ranting about how he wished Jim would be more responsible. How he wished Jim would stop chasing after fairy tales. But Leonard McCoy did not exist. Jim knew that now. He understood. And he wanted to laugh. He wanted to cry. The one person he trusted above all else was the very thing he wanted to save. How the hell did he miss that? 

“Jim? Are you okay? I made sure not to bring anything you were allergic to,” Leonard said, frowning deeply.

“I'm fine, Bones,” Jim told him, his heart breaking into a million pieces. “I'm okay. No allergies... You know, you're right, Bones. I'm not going to look into the Dollhouse anymore.”

“Good,” Leonard said, smiling. But there was a bit of suspicion in his eyes. He knew Jim too well for the simple words to work. 

Jim offered him an honest smile, and they continued to speak, light-hearted and filled with jokes. But Jim felt like he was drowning.

*

Scotty came running to him after Jim returned from another successful mission with Sulu. “Jim! Jim!” he shouted. “There's a problem. I need you to follow me right now.”

Right away, Jim knew that Scotty was talking about the Dollhouse. He nodded goodbye to Sulu before making his way towards Scotty. Then the two of them left for a quieter place.

Now don't get Jim wrong. He was suspicious as hell of everyone now. But Scotty had yet to do the weird “I'm from Dollhouse, listen to me” crap that Spock and Leonard had done, so Jim was hopeful. He still made sure not to share too much information, though. Just in case.

“The cameras were broadcasting to this location,” Scotty said, pulling out a map and pointing at the spot. 

And who would have thought? It was the very spot that Jim had suspected the Dollhouse to be at. Jim's jaws tightened and he forced himself to relax. Relax. Don't give anything away to Scotty. He didn't know if he could trust him or not.

“Alright, Scotty,” he said softly. “Thank you.”

“Are you going to go there?” Scotty asked. “Because if you are, don't bother. I've had the place checked out, but it's just a normal office building. Absolutely nothing important there.”

Jim smiled tightly. “Scotty, I think it's time you stopped.”

“What do you mean, Kirk?”

“I mean that you don't have to look into this anymore.”

“Kirk, if you're scared that-”

Jim gave him a look. He didn't know what Scotty saw in that look, but it must have been a great something, because Scotty shut up. Instead, he just looked at Jim for an uncomfortable second before giving up with a soft sigh.

“Good luck,” he said instead.

Jim was going to need it.

*

Just as Jim had feared, the office building was normal. There was no way to get to the underground Dollhouse facility at all. He bit his thumb, considering his position carefully. He could try to look for the way in from the outside. But wasn't there an easier method?

He took a deep breath. This was going to hurt.

*

Leonard looked at him as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing. And even with the repeated _He's not real. He's not real..._ mantra in his head, Jim couldn't quite fight off the feeling of guilt. Because damn it, no matter how fake it had all been, they had been friends. That wasn't a lie. Even if Leonard McCoy was a lie, they had been friends.

Those memories weren't lies.

“The fuck are you spouting, Jim?”

“I'm saying that you're cramping my style.”

“I'm _cramping your style?!_ ” Leonard asked, his voice reaching a high pitch that shouldn't be healthy for his throat. “What the ever loving fuck is going through that head of yours? I'm your friend, Jim! _Your friend!_ You don't just... You don't just _dump your friend like a cheap whore you picked up_!!!”

“And yet I'm doing it,” Jim told him cheekily. He smirked at his friend, turning up his assholeness up to 150 degrees.

His friend looked at him with his mouth open, the words dying on his throat. He closed his mouth and then opened it again, but the words didn't come out. Jim rolled his eyes, his act firmly in place.

“Look, I just don't think we're working out,” he said mockingly. “We need some space from one another. You're... Well... You're just too clingy and, let's face it, you're seriously not my type.”

“Jim... what...?” Leonard asked, his anger extinguished and replaced by something completely different. Then he looked at the ground, gulping loudly as if he was trying to remember how his body worked, before he looked back up, desperate eyes searching for something in Jim's blue ones. “Please don't do this.” 

No! Leonard wasn't supposed to do this. He was supposed to see what kind of an asshole Jim was and he was supposed to leave. They were supposed to destroy their friendship, goddamn it! If Leonard begged... if he were to ask, Jim wasn't sure he could continue this. But he had to. He had to break their friendship. It would upset Leonard enough to be unsuspecting. And Jim would follow him back to the building, back to Dollhouse. Figure out how to get in underground.

It was the only way.

“Do you want me to beg? Is that what this is? Jesus, Jim. What's gotten into you? If you're upset, we can talk it out. Because that's what _friends_ do. Don't just... Don't just throw me out like this. Talk to me, Jim. What is your problem? What did I do? Why are you doing this?”

 _Stop it, Bones. Don't do this. Don't ask me any questions..._ Jim closed his eyes for a second, trying to gather his resolve again. _He's not real. He's a doll. None of this is real. This isn't even how he really feels. It's just bunch of numbers, a program telling him to care for me. He doesn't actually care._ So he might as well as not pull any punches.

“Maybe it has to do with your suffocating motherhening! If you would just _stop_ being such a parent and start treating me like a fucking human being, I wouldn't feel this way! If you think we're friends, then why do you baby me all the time? Why do you always scold me for what you think I'm doing wrong?”

“Is this about the Dollhouse?”

Bingo.

“No! It's not just about the Dollhouse! Why do you always just assume that it's about that? Why do you always assume the worst about me? You never give me any chance to breath, any chance to actually think for myself. You're always judging me. You always tell me what to do, how I should be! But I'm sick and tired of it! Don't you get it, Leonard? _I don't want you around_!”

The doctor flinched as if he had been burned, and with that outburst, Jim might have well as flung fire into his friend's face. There was a sinking feeling of horror as Leonard looked at him with a little bit of hurt before everything became shut out. Then it was the same blank face that the doll version of Leonard and Jim fought the urge to flinch.

And before he knew it, Leonard just let out a soft puff of breath, a soft kind of broken laughter. “I thought you were different.” And with a shake of his head, he was gone, leaving Jim's apartment without any form of goodbye.

Jim pushed down the rising feeling of guilt and sorrow. He had to focus. He followed silently after Leonard, making sure to keep enough distance to not be found.

Besides, it wasn't like Leonard was real anyways.

*

Well fuck.

He now had three different sources confirming that yes, this normal office building was the location of the Dollhouse. And now, he knew how to get in.

Through an elevator.

And they might have thought that Jim was just a pretty face Starfleet agent, but they were sorely mistaken. Before he created the new record of 100% crime solving rate, he was the best computer hacker that Starfleet had to offer. Like hell he was going to let something as simple as an elevator stop him from where he needed to go.

Before he does, of course, he was going to need some supplies.

*

If Chekov was alarmed by the equipments that Jim was checking out when he walked in, the young boy didn't let it show on his face. Instead, he just glanced at Jim's face and must have seen something there, because he just wordlessly pulled Jim into a hug. Almost as if he feared that this might be the last time they saw each other. Then he gave Jim an encouraging smile and a soft, “Good luck,” and that was that.

*

“Where are you going?” Sulu asked, staring at all the equipments that Jim had checked out. “We don't have a mission, do we?”

“Nope.”

“Then you can't check those out,” Sulu reminded him, crossing his arms. “What the hell are you planning to do, Kirk?”

Jim smirked. “Just because we don't have a mission together doesn't mean I don't have one, pal. I got an interesting case.”

“Oh?” Sulu asked, looking too intrigued. “What are you working on? What kind of mission is it that you'd need that much firepower?”

“Sorry man, classified.” Jim gave him another smirk, all charm. It seemed to work because Sulu just clasped his shoulder and wished him luck.

*

Scotty probably understood exactly what Jim was going to do, with the look that he shot Jim when the techie saw him, decked in gear and carrying the equipments. But Scotty did not approach him. Instead, he just stared forlornly after him, as if he understood something that Jim didn't. As if he knew that this might be the last time they saw each other. But he did not say anything at all. Just looked after Jim with sadness and concern.

Jim ignored it.

*

He waited until nightfall. Then with the cover of the darkness, he came to the building. Just as he had suspected, hacking into the elevator was easy. And just as he had suspected, there was a building underground that people would normally not be able to have access to.

Jim went down.

*

Security was surprisingly lax. He wasn't sure if it was because they were 100% sure that no one would be able to get in or it was that they were just that confident that nothing would happen. He wasn't sure which scenario he preferred. One of the floors was reserved for some kind of guards. Jim bypassed them easily. Another floor was filled with clothing. Clothing after clothing, all labeled with special names that sounded like code names. One was “Quinto.” Another was “Urban” and yet another was "Saldana." And many more labels and clothes lined the walls.

Jim moved on. He snuck around, looking through rooms and floors until he finally reached the one that he had been looking for.

The floor to the Dollhouse.

He didn't realize he had arrived until he did. The whole place was set up like a traditional Asian house: wooden floor, mats, and gorgeous lighting. There were faint lights everywhere, almost like night lights for children. It lit the hallways, giving Jim clear sights. Unfortunately, there was also cameras. If he walked out of the elevator, carrying all of his weapons and dressed in all black as he was, he wouldn't make it. There were very few people walking around at this time (perhaps everyone was asleep?). Perhaps he would be able to find a room with a computer and destroy the security cameras?

Well, that was going go to have to do. He would have to just chance this. 

So he walked forward, holding his breath and waiting for the alarms. When nothing happened, he let go of his breath and began for a quick search for a computer.

Jim found a strange room with a giant computer and a chair in the middle of the room. There were wires coming off of the computer and connecting to parts of the chair. It didn't look like anything he saw before, and he had no idea what this room was. He had an inkling of a feeling that he wasn't going to like it if he knew, however. So he turned his attention to the computer. Whoever had set up the security was good. Scary good.

But Jim was better.

He hacked into the computer and disarmed the cameras with ease. Too easy. The Dollhouse was supposed to be a scary place. Somewhere people went to become erased and become dolls. And yet this was the best security that they could muster? Pathetic!

Jim's victorious smirk froze into place as the computer showed him exactly what kind of room he was in. This was the room where they made dolls, he realized with a sinking feeling. This was where they created Leonard McCoy. Where they erased Spock from existence.

“Well you sure took your sweet time,” said a baritone voice.

Jim flinched. His hand smoothly pulled out his gun and held it up as he turned; the gun trained on a tall man with black hair. He stood in parade rest, looking at Jim with slight amusement. His eyes were bright, a striking contrast to his pale skin and dark clothing. His high cheekbone strutted out and with the well-fitting clothing he wore, Jim could see the outlines of every muscle. Lean but not bulky. Gorgeous and just his type.

“Who are you?” Jim asked evenly, unsure if he should fire or not. Because if this man in front of him was with the Dollhouse, wouldn't he have brought guards or guns or something? 

“A poor question to ask as you will not recognize me even if I told you my name. But I will tell you this. I am the person inside the Dollhouse, who led you here with the trail of my breadcrumbs. They call me Khan.” The man smiled but it didn't reach his eyes. Just a simple curve of his lips.

“What are you?”

The smile formed into a smirk. “Better question. You're thinking. I am a doll.”

“But you're... You're not...” Jim wrecked his brain for the right word to say. What best described the man in front of him? 

“Broken? Unfeeling? Blank? Doll-like?” Khan asked, his baritone voice drawling in a way that sent shivers down Jim's spine. There was a bit of amusement dancing in those bright eyes now. “I am... different. Better.”

Jim tilted his head to the side, the gun never wavering. “How so?”

“I have managed to compile all of my memories. Every... 'Engagement' they send me out on... Every time they put in a new memory, a new personality, a new doll, it gets added to the long list of other things that they have made me be.”

“Is that... is that how it normally works?”

Khan snorted. “Don't be preposterous. They wipe memories. They're supposed to destroy the memories, the personality that they put in. As I have stated, I am better.”

Jim slowly lowered his gun, allowing the other man to step into the room.

“Is that why you contacted me? So you can get out of here? To make them stop using you?”

“Yes.”

At least he was honest.

“Then why didn't you send me your files? Why did you send Spock's files instead?”

“It was a fail-safe.” That was all that Khan said, but it was all that needed to be said. This man didn't want to get caught as the one with all the memories. So he sent out an S.O.S. Beacon using Spock, in hopes that someone would come help. Because even if people found out about it, the blame would be on Spock and not him.

“That's rather... mean of you. Throwing Spock in the way of harm like that,” Jim pointed out, putting his gun away.

“Doesn't matter. If he's caught, they'll just wipe him. If they get me, everything's lost.” Khan paused for a second before throwing Jim a goading smirk. “Besides, it got you here, didn't it?”

Great. Someone who embraced Niccolò Machiavelli.

“Why me?”

Khan shrugged as he made his way over to the computer. “It didn't matter who got it. As long as they acted. And once the Dollhouse started to get antsy about you, all I had to do was change a few line of coding here and there to send messages to you.”

Jim considered this very carefully, watching as the man fiddled with the computer. “Okay, so I'm here. Now what? What is your grand plan?” He couldn't help but to remember Leonard's words so long ago, asking about what he had planned to do after he found Spock and the Dollhouse. About the fantasy of romance of finding each other and rescue being nothing but stupid. Christ, that had been so long ago...

The other man turned away from the computer to face Jim. “Well isn't it obvious? You brought weapons, didn't you?”

Tension gathered on Jim's shoulders as he backed away from Khan. “We're not going to kill any innocent lives.”

“Innocent? Surely you jest? Are you saying that it was an innocent that gave you a fake best friend? Are you saying that it as an innocent that wiped all of our minds and gave us false personalities to be used by whoever paid the most? Perhaps I was wrong about you, Mister Kirk. Perhaps you are just like them. Content to let this go as long as you aren't the one getting hurt.”

Jim shook his head. “That's not what I'm saying. Look, Khan. I understand you're frustrated. And I want to bring down these sons of bitches just as much as you do. But killing them isn't going to solve anything.”

Khan crossed his arms, glowering at Jim in an almost childish manner. “Then what do _you_ suggest? Grab your friend? Grab your Spock? Then get out of here? Save just the three of us out of how many dolls they have?”

“Even better.” Jim grinned. “Let's shut them down. Shut them all down.”

“And you think we can have a bloodless coupe how?” 

Jim opened his mouth to answer, but all they heard was the sound of gunshots. Khan jumped, tackling Jim down as the bullets fired overhead. They were way too close and Jim couldn't breath. He could feel Khan's warmth, his hot breath against his neck. Khan's smell assulted his nose, spice and hot, and it took everything Jim had to close his eyes and look away. Khan's hands were on his either side, and one of his leg was between Jim's. They were too close. Much too close. _Shit. Don't get aroused. This is so not the time._

“They're not as pacifistic as you are, Kirk,” Khan whispered grimly in Jim's ear, earning a shiver. He glanced down, looking into Jim's eyes with a flash of... pain? “Are you alright?” he asked Jim.

The blonde nodded. Khan slowly pulled himself off, gingerly, slowly. And Jim saw it. Blood. Khan hissed softly as he held his hand to his shoulder, scowling. 

“You were shot?” Jim whispered. He didn't wait for the answer before he reached into his pack and pulled out the first kit that he checked out (along with other various weapons). He helped pull Khan's shirt off, trying hard not to think about the lean body and forcing himself to focus on the blood. Jesus, how did Leonard do it?

“We're going to have to stop them,” Khan told him. 

The gunshots have stopped for now, but most likely, they were getting ready to ambush them. Jim nodded slowly. “Can you apply this by yourself?” Jim asked.

Khan smirked but Jim couldn't help but to feel like it was closer to a grimace. “One of my engagement was as a nurse. I'm sure I can handle myself. I'm more worried about you.”

“Trained Starfleet officer, remember?” Jim handed over the first aid kit and grabbed his hand gun. With a sloppy salute and a winsome smile, he snuck forward, ready to fight.

He waited with his back against the wall by the open doorway. He could hear the sound of people outside, waiting. Now how to draw them out? Picking up a nearby piece of pebble, he tossed it to the side. The gunshots returned without remorse, firing heavily at the piece of pebble. Using that chance, Jim fired out of the doorway. Five security officers, he noted before pulling back. He managed to knock one out, but that didn't mean much. They would just be more prepared.

Well, that was what grenades were for.

He pulled one out and took the pin out before throwing it out there. There were loud shouts of surprise. Jim used the surprise to shoot the rest of them down.

“A dud?” Khan asked, looking fascinated as he handed the remaining first aid kit over. Unfortunately he had put his shirt back on, so Jim didn't have a free show anymore.

“Yup,” Jim said, nodding, forcing down his sexual urges (So not the time). “You didn't really think I would use a real grenade, did you?” 

Khan shrugged. But with the way he was looking away almost guiltily, Jim didn't need a verbal answer. He shot the doll a withering look.

“They're going to keep coming, aren't they?” Jim asked, switching the topic.

“Obviously,” Khan said in a tone that normally people would roll their eyes with. “Do you still want to spare them?”

“Well... if they're going to be firing like that... Not really, no.”

Khan chuckled, shaking his head. “Do you trust me?”

Jim considered for a second. Then he pulled out another handgun and handed it over to Khan. The doll looks surprised for a second before he nodded. 

“Thank you.” He took it.

“Where are we going?” Jim asked.

“Where the director resides. We'll take him down first. It should be enough to shut down this Dollhouse. Then we'll take all of them down.”

“Awesome. What's the director's name?”

“Alexander Marcus.”

*

“Through this hallway,” Khan said, groaning softly. He touched his shoulder with a scowl, leaning against the wall. He was panting now, most likely feeling the pain that came with being shot.

Jim took the lead, throwing worried glances at Khan. “Are you sure you're going to be al-” The word died on his throat at the sight of the man standing in front of them.

Khan glanced up as well and he sighed. “Marcus,” he growled lowly.

But it wasn't Marcus that was in front of them. It wasn't an armed security guard. It was Leonard McCoy.

“Bones,” Jim said, softly. Firmly. 

There was no acknowledgement or recognition. Instead, Leonard... or the person Jim knew as Leonard took a fighting stance.

“It's not your friend,” Khan informed Jim. “From the looks of it, they imprinted him to bring you down.”

“Imprint?”

“That's what we call when a new memory or personality or, in this case, objective is put inside a doll. All his other memories and personalities have been wiped for the sake of this goal. He will not recognize you. He never knew you. If you do not kill him, he will kill you.” Khan leaned heavily against the wall, gulping for air as he tried to explain the situation to Jim. And this sucked because it meant only one thing. Khan couldn't help him in this fight. Jim had to... had to...

“You have got to be shitting me...”

Leonard... _The doll_ moved, kicking towards Jim and knocking the gun out of his hand. Jim barely dodged the next punch that came towards him. Then it was a volley of punches and kicks, interspersed with cleaver dodges and twists, staying just out of Jim's grasp. But damn it, what was he supposed to do? How was he supposed to fight? 

Bones was... He was... Jim flinched as another kick landed on his chest. He found himself sprawled on the ground, wind knocked out again. The doll didn't hesitate to grab his throat, choking him without a single expression on his face. How was this fair at all?

“Bo... Bones...” he hissed, fighting to breath. “It's... me... Jim.”

He knew it was a losing battle. He knew that the doll couldn't remember. But damn, if he didn't even try. 

“Please...” Jim didn't know what he wanted to say with this plea. Did he want to apologize? Apologize because although the doll probably didn't know at the time, Jim had been planning the rescue of his fellow doll and not him? Did he want to ask Leonard to move his hands, let him live? What did he want? 

“Remember me.”

But there was no flash of recognition. If this was a movie or a story, Leonard would have returned, cursing at Jim and wondering what was going on. Ranting about nothing in his thick Southern drawl. Or maybe he would have taken Jim's first aid kit and made sure that Khan was alright. Made sure that the two of them were both okay. If this was anything but real life, Jim would have had his best friend back.

And it hurt, because this felt as surreal as fiction, but Leonard wasn't coming back. His friend was never going to be coming back.

There was a loud 'thawk' and the grip around Jim's neck loosened. He looked up to see the dol fall on top of him, collapsing as a dead-weight. Standing over them was Khan, who was obviously favoring his shoulder and holding the gun that he had knocked Leonard with. He looked at Jim with a grim look, bordering an apology and anger. He had to be in pain, judging by the almost gray face, but he was forcing himself to keep moving.

“Let's keep moving,” he said. He did not say any 'I told you so' or 'I'm sorry.' He just turned and walked forward, holding his shoulder while gritting his teeth. Jim mentally applauded Khan's motivation and drive.

Jim slowly pushed Leonard off of him, putting his friend (friend? Were they still friends?) against the wall. “I'm sorry,” he whispered softly to the doll. “But once we finish, I'll make sure you're safe.”

Then the blonde moved to where Khan was waiting, eyes hooded to hide the pity. They walked together without saying another word.

*

There were six guards by the door. Khan estimated that there were probably even more inside with Marcus. The two glanced at each other before Jim handed over few more weapons that Khan could use once the bullets ran out. They were both battered, Khan physically and Jim emotionally. But there was no backing out now. For both of them, they had waged everything they had on the line, and this was going to be the conclusion of it. They grinned ruefully at one another and ran forward, weapons firing.

*

Alexander Marcus was not who Jim expected. The man was thin and old, not at all the person he had built up in his own mind, powerful and young. Instead, Marcus' power came from his eyes and mind. Sharp and cleaver. Ready to poision their minds with his quick wit.

Not that it did him any good when Khan and Jim both had lost too much, had been hurt too recently, to listen. The rest of his guards had been taken down just moments before (it had taken a while, but it had been an inevitable outcome. Those who threw everything they had in a single match always out shot those who were there for the money). Both Khan and Jim were covered in blood and wounds, but they weren't wounded enough (or foolish enough) to not have their gun trainned on the older man.

“You think you've won?” Marcus asked, looking at both with look so calm that Jim couldn't help but to wonder if Marcus allowed himself to be caught. If this was some part of Marcus's plan. “You think you've taken us down? It doesn't matter. There are more Dollhouses everywhere. You can't stop us all.”

Jim felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. And it wasn't just because of Marcus's words. It had more to do with the fact that Khan was looking at him. Focusing that intense stare solely on Jim, as if asking for permission. It was becoming increasingly hard to ignore the growing feeling of want gnawing at him. There was a small pause as Jim took in a deep breath before turning to face Khan. _Don't get distracted by his face. Don't get distracted..._

“Go ahead,” he said, putting his gun away.

Khan smirked. Jim looked away from the brief fear that shone in Marcus's eyes. Ah good. Marcus understood. Jim just contended with listening to the sound of murder happening behind him. When did the world change to the point that he was okay with murder happening in his vacinity?

Once finished, Khan leaned heavily onto Jim, grinning much like a satisfied cat (Wounded, but satisfied). Jim wondered for a fleeting moment what kind of expression Khan would have after an orgasm. If it would be similar at all to the grin he had on now. Chastising himself for stupid thoughts, he looked to Khan, waiting.

“Thanks,” Khan said to the blonde. He was getting blood on Jim, but it wasn't like it mattered much. Jim was already covered in blood anyways. “Now we have to take care of the Dolls.”

“We're not killing them,” Jim state automatically, trying hard not to shift uncomfortably at the foreign weight of Khan against him (No, he wasn't hiding the beginning signs of an erection, what are you talking about?).

Khan laughed a little, burying his face against Jim, who could not surpass the shudder. “I thought of something much better.”

*

They spent the next couple of hours making announcments over the comm and gathering everyone. At Jim's insistance, they have offered those who worked at the Dollhouse a chance. If they were to turn in their weapons and helped Jim and Khan, they wouldn't be executed on the spot by Khan (Jim learned quickly that the only way to keep Khan calm was to let him kill those who he thought were evil). After Khan mercilessly shot and killed one hard-head in front of everyone else, they had all agreed to help (Well, it was more that they begged to be allowed to help). Using their help, Jim and Khan took all the rest of the dolls and returned their original minds to them.

It was a long and grueling process. In the middle of which, Khan had to be taken by a woman named Uhura (who apparently was some kind of a linguist before she was wiped, because no one without the mastery of languages could talk Khan into doing anything he didn't want to do) and Spock (who apparently knew quite a lot about the human biology and could treat Khan, albeit he apologized that his skills were rudimentary at best) to have his shoulder looked at (It was a shame that Leonard wasn't an actual doctor. He could have helped Khan). Jim oversaw the rest of the operation, making sure that all the dolls were no longer dolls. He made sure not to run into the one who used to be Leonard McCoy.

As soon as the last doll was restored, Jim took out his gun and fired on the chair and the computer. He made sure to aim carefully to destroy it so that no one could ever use it. Then he dismissed everyone with a charming smile as if he hadn't just went psychotic on them and destroyed the computer and chair, and told them all to go back home. He left before anyone could try and talk to him.

*

Khan found Jim leaning against the railing of the rooftop of the normal office building. He hesitated for a bit before walking up to Jim, looking a little uncertain what to say or do. There were multiple questions running though his mind, all centered around Jim. For instance, what should he say? Should he say anything at all? What were you supposed to say to someone who just found out that their best friend was nothing but a lie, created for the sole purpose of spying on them? What do you say to someone who had saved the said best friend and others but it didn't matter because they would never realize what you have saved them from? What do you say to the one who you want to stay by your side as your partner to bring down a criminal organization, but they were grieving over someone else?

“How's your shoulder?” Jim asked, without turning away from staring down at the ground.

“Fine. They gave me some painkillers," Khan said. He walked forward until he came to Jim's side by the railing. He let a beat pass before he admitted, “We have you to thank, you know.”

Jim laughed humorlessly. “You would have figured out how to get out of there sooner or later. They would have one day imprinted you with some crazy personality and you'd have destroyed them all with it. Or maybe you would figure out how to use the imprinting chair and use that against them somehow. You don't need me at all.”

“On the contrary, without you there, this would not have gone so smoothly.”

“We killed 28 people. 59 others were injured, counting yourself. Except none of this is going to make the news or anything because the Dollhouse doesn't exist.” Jim's blazing blue eyes turned to face Khan, anger obvious in his voice.

“And yet there will be families who will be pleasantly surprised by the return of their missing members,” Khan said softly.

There was a thick silence between them. Neither knowing what else to say, what else to add. Jim looked away, glancing down at the streets below, where the people were leaving to find their way back home. From this distance, he couldn't tell who was who. But he imagined that Leonard (whatever his real name was) walked down there, happy to return to his familiy. He imagined Spock walking forth, exploring the city with new found freedom.

“So how do we destroy the other Dollhouses?” he asked finally. 

“I figured we would use this one to locate the others,” Khan admitted. “Pretend that this one is still operating. Set up traps. That kind of things.”

There was another pause as Jim just nodded, not looking at Khan. And finally, finally, Khan gathered enough courage to ask.

“Are you not going to go after them?” He nodded to the people on the ground. “Even if they don't remember you, do you not wish to get to know them as who they really are?”

Jim's lips thinned and his eyes turned sad. He slowly looked up at Khan, the softest smile on his face. Khan thought that it was the most beautiful sight he had seen without programs telling him how to perceive. And he wasn't sure if it was the lingering effects of the medicine or if he truly wanted to, but he thought that it wouls be rather wonderful to kiss Jim's lips. Pull him close, hold him still until the grief went away. Until the beautiful grief became passion for-

“I'm sure our paths will cross again. Until then, we have a job to do.”

Then Jim was moving, going towards the door to go back downstairs to the Dollhouse. Khan waited for the briefest second, staring at his backside, appreciating the nice ass. Then he chuckled lightly to himself, throwing his head back and enjoying the breeze. He could move his body the way he wanted. He could think whatever way he liked. He could chase after someone he actually found attractive. He wasn't being forced to find someone attractive because of the program or because they paid big money. He was allowed to smile, allowed to do whatever he wanted, allowed to think what he wanted. All without a figure looming over him, watching his every move.

Ah. So this was what freedom tasted like.

*

Jim froze at the sight in front of him. He could hear Khan just few steps behind him, feel his usual intense gaze upon his back. But Jim couldn't move. He couldn't breath.

"What are you guys doing?" he demanded at the people in front of him, who were giving him proud smiles.

"With all due respect, Kirk," Uhura said, crossing her arms with a smirk, "if you're going to bring down the sons of bitches who used my body for their sick pleasures, then I want in."

"The rest of us all share Nyota's view," Spock said, standing straight with his hands behind his back. Formal. Was he in the military or something? "We refuse to walk away when this war has just barely begun."

Definitely military.

Jim glanced around at the rest of the ex-dolls, who all gave him a resolute look. None of them budged. 

"How perfect," Khan drawled as he walked into sight. "And now we have ourselves an army."

"What do you mean an army?" Jim demanded, founding around Khan with a scowl. "You have got to be kidding me! We're not starting a war! This is... This isn't funny. People are going to die. We're going to get hurt and it's not going to be pretty. Why would you willingly walk into that?"

"Because some fights are just worth fighting."

Jim could feel his blood turn to ice at the sound of the voice, at the sound of that accent. Who knew? The southern accent wasn't an act. It had been part of the person as well. He closed his eyes, gulping lightly before he turned to face one Leonard McCoy. He breathed shallowly, trying to get more air down into his lungs, but it just wasn't working. There his friend stood, just like he always did. A deep scowl on his face and wrinkles of anger furrowing his brows. It was a sight so familiar that brought aches in Jim's heart just looking.

"And we're going to fight for our freedom, whether you stop us or not, Mister Kirk."

The name was so foreign on McCoy's tongue that Jim couldn't help but to wince. Only Khan seemed to have noticed the wince. He placed his hand against the small of Jim's back, leaning yet again much too close. The warmth of Khan's body gave Jim small comforts. But seeing his best friend in front of him without any recollection of their time together... 

"So why don't you just accept our help, eh?" McCoy continued, the scowl easing into a smirk that Jim had seen only when they had hung out together, alcohol deeply rooted in their systems.

"He's quite correct," Spock added, nodding. "We're all working towards the same goal, after all."

Jim didn't want to. He wanted to scream and yell at them. Tell them all to go the hell away, to get to safety. But their eyes were resolute. All the ex-dolls who stood there in front of them. They wanted revenge. Because wasn't that also a form of freedom? Making one's own decisions. And if he refused them this right, wasn't he just like those people who took their bodies and turned them into dolls?

"It's going to be hard," he said, looking down at the ground. "And I'm not going to treat you nicely. Not if we're going into war."

The rest just grinned. And Jim fought against the hope that this ragtag group was going to become amazing freedom fighters. Because this was a war. They were going to die. And their blood, their lives, would be on his hand, dripping, dripping down...

"We won't stop until we win," Khan assured him from by his side. His warm breath tickling Jim's skin. "We won't stop until all the Dollhouses are shut down."

Well, what was wrong with hope anyhow? 

And for once, Jim couldn't think of a single answer.


End file.
